


Just want to be loved

by aishiterumo



Series: My personal Hematite [6]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Almost Rape, Angst, Guilt, Guilt Trip, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, i really don't know how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishiterumo/pseuds/aishiterumo
Summary: Han Jisung never had a significant other. Once he gets one, he just keeps telling himself it's what it's supposed to be like.
Series: My personal Hematite [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839322
Kudos: 10





	Just want to be loved

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Jisung's mindset isn't the right one, I'm aware of it.
> 
> A/N: this work is part of a series 'My personal Hematite' which contains therapeutic works i wrote during some of my dark moments (panic attacks, depression episode, dissociation episode etc). i wrote these to help myself, they may not make any sense and are not related in any way. read with care, and be mindful of your comments. Thank you.

It happened quite weirdly. He had met him at the hospital. Jisung had went there for his older brother, waiting in the ER as he saw his brother’s forehead patched with some weird see-through band-aid, a mixture of cream and blood underneath it. He felt sick. Jisung had always hated hospitals, and blood, and cuts, and seeing his family hurt. Everything was there. He was in the hospital, looking at his older brother with a cut on his forehead, blood in the band-aid. He was waiting to get stitches, then they could go home. Next to his brother was his girlfriend, and next to her was… he didn’t know who the man was. He was looking at him in some kind of way that made him feel _cared_ but _unsafe_ at the same time. Listening to his brother and his girlfriend’s conversation, he learned that he was a friend of them, that he was there when _it_ had happened. Jisung’s parents were there too, next to him. His mom had a soothing hand placed on his knee, knowing how much he felt uncomfortable being in here. The man in front of him kept staring, smiling at him. Jisung smiled back before looking at his brother again. That was too much. He felt his head spin, nausea fresh in his stomach. He was about to puke. All of a sudden, he got up and left the room, going outside. If he stayed longer, he’d pass out.

That’s when he met him for the first time. He thought it’d end here, but then his brother texted him. He was back at his girlfriend’s place, all patched up and feeling better. That’s when he told him, that’s when he texted him. That’s when Jisung knew what that smile had meant. ‘ ** _He thinks you’re really cute, he wanna get to know you_** ’ Maybe if he had been cared for properly before, maybe if he had more experience, maybe he’d have refused. But he did not. He was thirteen and he never had a boyfriend—or a girlfriend—before. He felt thrilled to know someone was interested in him. So, he said _ok_. And he asked his dad to drive him to his brother’s girlfriend place.

He saw him again. It was awkward. He didn’t know what to say. He was anxious and it made things awkward. He barely remembers that day. He just knows that his brother left him alone with that guy, that guy he erased the name from his memory—or not, he just couldn’t get himself to say it or think about it. He stayed in the same room as that guy, and they talked. About what? He can’t recall. All he knows is that before leaving, he asked him out. “ _Do you wanna be my boyfriend?_ ” And Jisung said yes. He said yes because he wanted someone to care for him. He was looking at this boy’s eyes and felt loved. He was older, five years older—or was it six?—and everything was wrong with this. Still, he felt so damn loved by those wicked eyes, he said yes, and he let him kiss him. He let him take his first kiss. Jisung didn’t even know what he was supposed to do when kissing someone. Thinking back to the movies he watched, the TV show he watched, everything he’d seen from his parents to his brother’s relationships, he closed his eyes and let the boy move his lips against his. He felt nothing. He felt lips against his and then he felt the cold air. He opened his eyes again and forced a smile, wondering if this is how it was supposed to feel. Like nothing. His dad came back, drove him back, and he got a text from his brother _congratulating him_ for his first boyfriend.

The boy was needy. It was the holiday for Jisung, so he was home more than half of the time. The boy kept on texting him, asking when they could see each other. Was it a blessing or a curse that he lived in the building right next to Jisung’s brother’s girlfriend? Jisung felt like it was a blessing. He once again asked his dad to drive him there. He went into the elevator. Tenth floor, he knocked on the door. His brother opened; he saw his boyfriend behind. He felt a heavy weight in his chest as he stepped in. His boyfriend took him by the waist, kissing him full on the lips. It had been two weeks since they started dating. He met him in the hospital. It was his third time seeing him, second time to be more accurate—it wasn’t like the first time counted, right?

They all sat on the couch, all four of them. His brother was on his right, his boyfriend on his left. His brother was too busy with his girlfriend to really notice them. His boyfriend was needy. He put a hand on his knee to grasp his attention. Jisung turned his head towards him, humming as to let him know he had his full attention. “ _Your brother told me you liked Five Seconds of Summer,_ ” he started. Jisung turned his head to look at his brother. The hand on his knee got firmer, he looked back at his boyfriend. “ _He told me how much you loved them, so I got some of their lyrics put on my bedroom’s wall._ ” Jisung didn’t grasp the weirdness of this, at first. He blinked a few times, a soft _oh_ escaping his mouth. Was it an impressed oh? A questioning one? He didn’t know himself; he just couldn’t comprehend what all of this meant. “ _So that you’ll feel more at home?_ ” His boyfriend continued. Why would he need to feel at home in his bedroom? Everything was too much and going too fast. Jisung felt awkward. Still, it was his first boyfriend. He was loved, cared for. It must be like that, to be in a relationship. So, he hummed and nodded, smiling and even whispered a _thank you_. His boyfriend leaned in, kissing his lips. He tasted like the chips he had munched a few minutes prior. Jisung didn’t comment on this, kissing him back.

His brother had started to play a game, forcing everyone in the room to play with them. Jisung couldn’t remember what it was, it had cards, they played on the table in the living-room, never leaving the couch. His boyfriend’s hand was still on his knee, often going up his thigh before going down on his knee again. Jisung felt awkward but forced a smile on his face, wondering why he was always so weird around people. He didn’t want his boyfriend to stop loving him, it had only been two weeks. Everything was fuzzy in Jisung’s head, it was like he was barely there anymore. He could hear everyone talking around him, when suddenly his boyfriend’s nose was up his neck, tickling his skin. He squirmed, moving a bit further away. “ _It tickles_ ,” he whispered. His boyfriend laughed, kissing his cheek before taunting him again. Jisung somehow snapped, his hand gasping his boyfriend’s cheek. A thumb on his left cheek, the index on his right one. And he stayed there, not knowing what to do anymore. Not knowing why his _boyfriend was smiling_. He let go of his face, turning back to the game. _Were they still playing?_ And then he heard it. “ _You know_ ,” he said. “ _When my ex did that, it was to kiss me_.” Jealousy stirred in his stomach. “ _Like that_ ,” following his words, he cupped Jisung’s cheeks, the same way he had done to him, forcing his face to turn towards him and he made him come to him. He made him come closer, to put a _chaste_ kiss to his lips. Jisung chuckled, “ _Oh, I see. Sorry_.” Why was he apologizing? He didn’t know. He just felt like he needed to.

The game was over, the chips weren’t there anymore. Jisung was still sitting on the same spot since he had arrived, his boyfriend was half-lying down next to him. His brother sat next to him, closer, almost whispering against his ear, “ _wanna stay over?_ ” Jisung looked at him, staring at his face for a few seconds. He loved his brother. He felt safe around him. He missed him. It had been months since the boy had left their home. Spending time with his brother, it sounded nice. Jisung nodded vigorously. His brother smiled brightly before sharing the news with _everyone_. That is when his nightmare started.

“ _Since you’re staying, wanna go to my place? Meet my mom?_ ” Jisung stared at his boyfriend’s face, not knowing what to say. He looked at his brother for help. The boy simply smiled at him, encouraging him to agree. His boyfriend continued; “ _I can ask her to make some crepes for us_.” Maybe it was the food, maybe it was his brother’s reassuring smile, maybe it was his boyfriend’s voice, whatever it was, he said yes. He said _ok_ and as soon as he did, he took his hand and left the apartment. They took the elevator, left the building and crossed the parking lot that separated the two buildings, entering the one his boyfriend was living in. He made small talks with Jisung as they waited for the elevator. Small talks that should’ve alarmed Jisung. It did not, because he so damn thought it was normal for a boyfriend to ask that. “ _How old are you again?_ ” Jisung looked up at the boy, he was towering him. “ _Thirteen_ ,” he whispered. What got him to keep talking? “ _I just can’t wait to be eighteen_.” His boyfriend smiled, chuckled even. The elevator’s doors opened. They stepped in. He lived at the eleventh floor. “ _If my mom asks, can you tell her you’re fifteen?_ ” It should’ve alarmed Jisung. But it still did not. “ _Why?_ ” “ _Well, I’m older than you. It’d be less weird if the gap’s smaller_.” Jisung hummed. It made sense. It made sense when it should’ve not. He should’ve said _no_ and ran away. But he did not, he stayed in the elevator and once the doors opened, he followed his boyfriend to his apartment.

The door opened and he saw his boyfriend’s mom. Politely, he bowed. His voice was gone. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do, nor say. So, he simply took his boyfriend’s hand and squeezed it just enough to feel safe. He still felt unsafe. He followed him through the hall, then the living-room. His boyfriend pointed at the wall; a few words were written on it. Jisung barely had time to read it, it seemed like a poem made with his name. His heart fluttered. He felt loved. Cared for. He smiled and followed his boyfriend. The older boy opened a door, there was a bed in the middle of it. Just a bed, and a bedside table on each side. It was cold. Lifeless. The bed sheets were green, with small yellow pattern on it—was this supposed to make flowers?

His boyfriend sat on the bed, Jisung sat beside him. They talked. He doesn’t remember what they talked about, but they talked. He doesn’t even remember for how long they talked, but then they weren’t. He was pushed against the bed, lying flat on his back, in the middle of the bed, his boyfriend on top of him and kissing him. He closed his eyes and kissed him back. This is what he was supposed to do, right? He kept his hands on both of his sides while his boyfriend’s hands were roaming over his waist, a bit on his stomach yet not that much. He felt shivers in his whole body, he didn’t like it.

“ _Can I?_ ” His boyfriend’s voice was low. He opened his eyes again, looking at him. Then at his hands, who were on the hem of his T-shirt. He didn’t want to. But if he said no, would his boyfriend not love him anymore? Would he not love him anymore? Care for him? He nodded, and as soon as he did, he had arms put in the air as his T-shirt was thrown on the floor. His boyfriend’s hands went to his chest, then his nipples. A moan died in his throat. No one had ever seen him like that. Touched him, even less. It was new, overwhelming, yet he didn’t want it.

It had always been a bit childish of him, but as soon as he had known about love, sex, relationships and all those things, a promise was made. A promise to himself. He’d wait to be sixteen. Why sixteen? He didn’t know, was it because at sixteen you were in high school? Because it was the _sexual majority_? Because it felt like a good age? He had no idea why sixteen, but he promised himself. And right now, it felt unwelcomed to be touched in that way.

His boyfriend went to kiss his neck, then down to his chest, sucked on his nipples, before trailing down his stomach. He stopped a few centimetres before his happy trail. “ _Do you know what foreplay is?_ ” Jisung’s head was spinning too much, it was all fuzzy in his head and he was sure he had red cheeks. He knew, at least he was sure he knew. Yet, he looked at his boyfriend’s face and said _I don’t_. It made him chuckled, he was sure he heard him say something about how pure he was, but he wasn’t sure he really said it. He sat at the end of the bed, looking at his chest openly. He then started to explain what _foreplay was_ , what it was for, and Jisung’s mind had a moment of realisation. He knew what it was. He just didn’t know why the sudden question. Until his boyfriend answered that unasked question. “ _When we’ll have sex, do you want to add some foreplay?_ ” Jisung was thirteen, he had three years to wait until he could keep his promise. The sole idea of doing anything with anyone made his body shiver. He shook his head, “ _No_.” He didn’t want any foreplay, nor did he want to have sex with him. _But he’s your boyfriend_ , his inner voice reasoned with him. He still shook his head another time. “ _Ok, then_.” And his boyfriend was back on top of him. Back to kissing him. Back with his hands on his waist, going down, down and down until it was at the waistband of his jeans.

It was like he got back into his own body. Jisung suddenly broke the kiss, getting up with the help of his elbows. “ _I don’t want to_ ,” he said in a firm voice. As soon as his boyfriend looked back at him, all the confidence he had vanished. He still had hands on his waistband, an eyebrow arched as if he didn’t know what he was referring to. “ _I don’t want to do it, not now_.” “ _Why so?_ ” Should he tell him? Maybe he’d understand. He was his boyfriend, after all. “ _I want to wait until I’m sixteen_.” He laughed. His boyfriend laughed at his face; “ _Sixteen? And why sixteen? What’s so important about sixteen? You’re thirteen, that’s the same as sixteen_.” Jisung felt tears in his eyes. It was his most precious promise, his only promise. He felt tiny. Small. Insignificant. He wanted to cry and leave. But he didn’t want his boyfriend to stop loving him. He wanted him to care for him again. He didn’t want him to laugh anymore. “ _I just want to wait,_ ” he whispered. “ _Please_ ,” maybe he wasn’t polite enough? His boyfriend still laughed again, leaning in, kissing Jisung again.

He shoved his tongue inside of Jisung’s mouth, and it distracted him from feeling the hand that hand slide inside of his pants. Until he felt fingers grasping his ass. He yelped. He broke the kiss and shoved his hand away. “ _I don’t want to, please_.” The hand was still there, still touching him. His other hand was on his chest. He felt trapped. He had tears spilling from his eyes, was this supposed to be like that?

Maybe the tears were what disgusted him, but his boyfriend took his hand off of Jisung’s pants, sitting back on the bed. “ _What do you even want?_ ” He felt accused, trapped, pushed against a wall. He breathed heavily, anxiety rising again. He had overcome his fear of people long ago, but Jisung felt like he was back at square one. He stared at his boyfriend, throat tight, so tight he could barely breath but most importantly, he couldn’t talk. He couldn’t form any words; no thoughts were coherently form in his head. He was waiting. His boyfriend was waiting for an answer. He sounded pissed. He _looked_ pissed. “ _Just tell me the fuck you want_ ,” his words were harsh on Jisung. He didn’t love him anymore. He cried harder, a sob leaving his mouth when he tried to talk. “ _Do you want to break up?_ ” Jisung shook his head no. “ _Then why don’t you want?_ ” He didn’t move. Didn’t answer. He just didn’t want to.

Harshly, his boyfriend threw Jisung’s phone at him. “ _Call your brother_ ,” it was an order. “ _If you don’t wanna talk to me, talk to him_.” He did. He searched for his brother’s number and dialled him. He was crying hard, hiccups between each sob. “ _Hello?_ ” His brother’s voice reassured him. “ _Is everything ok?_ ” He didn’t know. No, nothing was ok. He turned his head to look at his boyfriend, swallowing his saliva, it was hard to do so. His throat was so damn tight. His boyfriend huffed, leaving the room. Jisung didn’t realised the door was entirely closed. He thought it was. “ _Jisung, talk to me. Is everything ok?_ ” His brother didn’t sound panicked. “ _N-No_ ,” he choked. “ _No, it’s not_.” And from all the things that went wrong, all the things that were wrong in this, the one thing he decided to say was; “ _He wants to break up with me_.” Jisung wanted to feel loved. He wanted to _be loved_. His brother chuckled; “ _Why so? What did you do?_ ” Because it was his fault. Of course, it was Jisung’s fault. It always was. “ _I don’t want h—I don’t want, him to t—to touch me_.” He sobbed harder. _That_ was what was wrong. Yet, he just felt like his boyfriend leaving him was the worse. “ _Why? He’s your boyfriend_ ,” his brother’s words weren’t comforting. “ _Just say no if you don’t want to._ ” Jisung was about to say that, if he did so, he’d leave him. “ _Or just let him touch you, if you love him_.” There was the problem. He didn’t love him. He knew now. He didn’t want him to touch him, because he didn’t love him. Jisung choked on his sobs, listening to his brother that kept on talking. He felt worse when he hung up. It wasn’t comforting.

His boyfriend came back in the bedroom—he didn’t know whose it was. He sat next to him, a hand on his knee. Always a hand on his knee. “ _So?_ ” Jisung started to cry again. The hand on his knee kept on going up, and up, almost at his crotch when finally, he managed to speak. “ _I don’t want to_.” And reality hit him. The hand on his tight was gone. “ _Let’s break up, then_.” He started to cry again. Not because his boyfriend was leaving him, but because he wasn’t loved anymore. His boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend would be more accurate, didn’t even looked remorseful. “ _Crepes are ready!_ ” he heard his mom say. He dried his tears as much as he could, went to the kitchen, and that’s how he ended up sitting next to his ex-boyfriend’s mom, opposite his ex-boyfriend, eating crepes for dinner. Everything felt so wrong.

He then went back to his brother’s place, as he had told his dad to only pick him up the next day. He knocked on the door, his ex-boyfriend was still behind him. His brother opened the door and he felt like crying again. The night was long, as he lied on the mattress on the floor, his ex-boyfriend on the mattress next to him. He caused this. He was the cause of this. All because he said no. He shouldn’t have said no. He didn’t love him anymore. It was his fault, Jisung’s fault. Jisung. Jisung was at fault. He cried all night, as quietly as he could.

When his dad picked him up the next day, he hugged his brother goodbye, the warm comforting feeling he always had before now long gone. He sat in the car, staring in the distance. It was as if a part of him had stayed in his ex-boyfriend’s bedroom. He’d never hear from him again, at least.

Oh, how wrong he was. School had started again. Jisung wasn’t the most assiduous middle school student. He actually barely went to school, but strangely when he was there, it was always when something interesting happened. He was in the schoolyard, sitting on a bench next to his friend when he got the text. When he read the text that made him feel so many emotions at once. ‘ ** _I miss you… can we go back together?_** ’ His heart skipped a bit. He loved him. He loved him again! What took him to reply so fast? He hadn’t even given it a thought when he hit _send_ to a ‘ ** _of course we can_** ’. A new nightmare started.

It was constant texting. Constant asking what he was doing, who he was with, when they could see each other. Jisung _was busy_. He wasn’t really. But he _was_. He wasn’t ready to see him again, actually, he didn’t want to. He just wanted to be loved. But he wasn’t ready to see him and feel his hands on him. He didn’t want to kiss him. Didn’t want to hear his voice. But the boy seemed to hear his thoughts even from far away, as he called him. Jisung was sitting at his desk, his laptop opened in front of him as he was chatting with some friends. He took the call, why? “ _Hey_ ,” he kept on typing on his laptop. “ _What are you doing?_ ” his boyfriend’s voice didn’t sound happy. “ _Nothing, watching TV and stuff._ ” He heard a groan from the other side of the line. “ _When can I see you again?_ ” And there it was. “ _I don’t know, I need to ask my dad to drive me but he’s busy_.” He wasn’t. His dad wasn’t busier than before. He just needed an excuse to avoid his boyfriend. “ _I can’t date someone I can’t see_ ,” there it was again. “ _I’m breaking up with you_.” And he hung up. Jisung stayed sitting in front of his laptop, phone in hand and still against his ear. He had long stopped typing on his laptop, eyes failing to focus on anything. _What?_

He wasn’t loved. He wasn’t loved anymore, and it was his fault again. Maybe it was to dig the knife in his wound a bit further that his brother texted him, ‘ ** _You made him cry!!!_** ’ He made him cry. He was a horrible person. Jisung was a monster, he was unlovable. All he wanted was to be loved. He should’ve never said no. He shouldn’t say no. Never. When you tell someone no, they stop loving you. They stop caring for you. He should have said yes, screw his promise. It was silly of him to put his promise before the warm feeling of being loved. Because now, he was alone. And all he could do was cry as silently as he could, as he was the only one to blame.


End file.
